


Every Story Has an Ending

by PDX_fan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Abuse, Protective Siblings, Sibling Love, Siblings, Winchester Sister
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PDX_fan/pseuds/PDX_fan
Summary: Alina has two brothers, they don't know she exists, and she would very much like to keep it that way. But when everything goes to shit, she has no choice but to finally leave the shadows. Will she survive in the light?





	1. Beginning of the End

Alina POV  
Dean had been pacing across his hotel room for the past 10 minutes stressing over whether or not to call Sam. Personally, I hoped he wouldn’t. It would make my job twice as hard if I had to watch both of them. I was barely older than Dean, but I had been responsible for both my brothers since I was 15. “Protect the boys.” That was what John always said. After he found me of course. I’d been given up for adoption at birth. John wasn’t my father, and Mary gave me up a few months before she met him. I was a stupid, drunken, mistake with a long forgotten one night stand. I would be lying if I told myself I didn’t blame her at least a little bit, but holding a grudge against a dead woman I never met, and never will, seemed pretty useless, and I didn’t have time for useless things. Besides, I’d like to think she did what she thought was best for both of us, even if I’m the only one who had to live the results. John found me in a… let’s call it a bad situation… when I was almost 15, and after making it painfully clear that I was neither his daughter nor the sister of his sons, gave me a job: be my brothers’ guardian angel. Protect them, keep them safe, and never, under any circumstances, let them see me. I never fully understood that rule, but he threatened to send me back if they found out. The one time I almost screwed up, I swear he almost killed me. Needless to say, I never missed a step again. I didn’t blame him either. He wasn’t my dad, I didn’t deserve his love, and sometimes it was nice to have a purpose.  
When Sam had gone to college, I almost threw a party. I still drove by every once in awhile, when Dean wasn’t on a hunt, but he was one less thing to worry about. Then, John would call me to tell me Dean had a case, and I’d have to leave again. But now, Dean was considering bringing Sam back. I knew this would happen eventually. And even though I hated it, I knew Dean couldn’t find John on his own. And neither could I. So I didn’t stop him, I just lay in the air duct and watched. Normally I’d never take such a risk, but sitting in my car right now would’ve driven me nuts.  
At Stanford  
I was parked around the corner from Sam’s apartment. The boys were getting in the shiny black Impala that I had barely been allowed to enter, much less drive. Dean looked behind him as he opened the driver’s side door, causing me to duck down behind my dashboard. He shrugged and got in the car. I guess there is one advantage to having the most common car in the country: no one thinks it’s suspicious to see one everywhere you go.   
Dean POV  
I looked behind me as I got in the car, feeling that familiar feeling of eyes on my back. It was something I got a lot. But not in a bad way. As if someone was watching over me. When I saw nothing, I shrugged and slid into the car.   
A Few Hours Later  
Sam was staring absently out the window and I had that prickly feeling at the back of my neck again. So I asked, “Hey Sam? You ever feel like someone’s watching you?”  
“Uh… no. Why?”  
“I don’t know. I’ve just had a weird feeling lately.”  
“Uh huh...” He trailed off, unsure of what to say, “You know in my psych class we talked about this condition-”  
“Okay! Okay! I don’t need you to psychoanalyze me.” I knew once he got started on one of those nerdy trips it would end with me looking stupid, and him being frustrated with my lack of anything higher than a GED.   
“Geez, just trying to help.” He turned back towards the window, and I shrugged off the shivers on my spine.  
Alina POV  
Their first case together had gone fairly well. I hadn’t had to get involved, and there hadn’t been any major injuries. Now, they were on the road to Colorado. I was already there. Dean might be afraid of flying, but I sure wasn’t. I’d already done enough research to figure out that it definitely was not a grizzly bear, and there was a man who’d survived an attack that I wanted to talk to. Unfortunately, the boys arrived, and I couldn’t risk the man asking them why two people had asked about his story so close to one another. So now, I just had to wait.   
Then, Dean and Haley got taken. I should have seen it coming. Of course it was a fucking wendigo, you idiot! What else could it have been?! I snapped myself out of the self-deprecating narrative in time to remember that if I couldn’t get to him in time, John was going to kill me. After way too long of panicked searching, I found the old mine before Sam and was about to go in, when I had an idea. Why risk exposing myself to Dean when I could just lead Sam here? I grabbed the bag of m&ms out of my bag and smiled when I saw they looked just like Dean’s. If there was one thing I shared with my brother, it was his sweet tooth. I frowned, No, idiot. He’s not your brother. Backtracking until I was just ahead of Sam, I started dropping the candies in a trial that led to the mine, smiling when I heard him announce they were on the right trail. When I got back to the mine, I headed inside to make sure Dean was actually still alive. Thankfully he was, but his lack of consciousness and slightly swollen ankle had me a little concerned.  
Dean POV  
I probably hallucinated it. Or at least that’s what I tried to convince myself as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I knew I was hanging from something by my hands, but other than that, I was pretty out of it. There was one thing I couldn’t shake though: as my eyes drifted shut for the last time before Sam came crashing in, I could have sworn I saw a shadowy figure, a flash of green eyes, and the tiniest amount of blonde hair. It almost looked like my mom. But I totally hallucinated it right? It had looked so real though, that as Sam cut me down, I couldn’t help but search the shadows that painted the dark walls behind him. When I found nothing, all I could do was try to shake the idea out of my head.  
Alina POV  
Dean looked straight at me. I swear it was an act of god he didn’t see me. I pressed against the rock until I could feel the cold stone bruising my spine. After Dean finally got up, I noticed he was definitely moving with a limp. Great. I followed their little group until Dean decided to play hero. Moron. I mean sure, he was walking okay now, but there was no way he could outrun a wendigo. I knew I only had one option. So, I drew a deep breath and darted out of the shadows. I sprinted past Dean, my hand snuck out and snatched the flare gun. I ignored his confused shouts and kept running, I could hear him behind me, but it didn’t matter. I focused in on the Wendigo and the scared shouts of Haley and her brothers. It only took me a few more seconds to find them and fire the gun. I breathed a sigh of relief and pressed the gun back into Dean’s hand as he finally caught up. I turned to run, but I didn’t make it two steps before a hand grabbed my forearm and yanked. Hard. Normally I would have been able to get away no problem. But of course, it was my bad shoulder. I let out a cry of pain and felt the air leave my lungs as I crashed face first into the wall. I felt what I would later confirm was blood begin to trickle down my cheek. He must have noticed my weakness because he twisted my arm behind my back until I gave a small scream and saw spots in my vision, and a split cheek became the least of my problems.   
“Who are you?” It was Dean who hissed in my ear. “And why are you following us?” When I couldn’t give anything more than a whimper in response, I could almost feel him roll his eyes. He pulled me away from the rock and turned towards Sam who was staring in shock.   
“Who the hell is that?”   
“No idea,” Dean shrugged, “but I’m sure as hell gonna find out.” He kept my arm pulled just beyond comfortable by also grabbing the back of my jacket and shoved me ahead of him back into the woods. Sam led our little bunch, followed by a very confused Haley and her brothers, while Dean and I brought up the rear.  
As we hiked back, I cursed myself for ever following them onto that bridge. It had been the Jericho case when the ghost had hijacked Dean’s car. They had been arguing, and I had been on the other side of the bridge, crouched down on the wrong side of the railing. It was stupid, I know, but it was their first case, and I had been worried. When the car started, I had been so focused on the boys, that it startled me and caused me to slip on the already damp concrete. I had managed to catch myself, but only with one hand, which due to an old injury that had never been allowed to heal right, lead to a sickening crack and several pops. Upon later inspection, I’d self-diagnosed it as a dislocation. It definitely wasn’t fully healed, and Dean was probably making it a lot worse, as he shoved me down the path. We were getting close to the town, and I was starting to get nervous. I needed to get away, and I needed to do it soon. So, I did the only thing I could think of: I tripped. (In hindsight, I’ve had better plans) My fall pulled my arm back even further, but I let myself go down anyway. In order to keep himself upright, Dean had to let go of my arm. I took the brief opportunity to roll off the path and tried to push myself up. But my shoulder gave out on my first try. Before I could recover, I heard the brush moving behind me and a large hand gripped my ankle. I barely had time to think before I was being dragged back across my stomach. Twigs and rocks scraped across my already bloody face, but I tried to kick free anyway, but that only resulted in my other foot being grabbed. When he got me back to the path, I was picked up by the back of my shirt, and my arm was twisted behind me again. “Try that again and the only thing you’ll find is a bullet.” He pulled my arm a little extra for emphasis. My back stiffened at Dean’s threat. I knew he wouldn’t hesitate. Fuck. I’m so screwed. I gave a sharp nod and let him push me forwards again, after nodding at a wary looking Sam. As we approached the edge of the woods, and the entourage of cops, Dean bent down to hiss in my ear. “I’m going to let you go. But you try to run, you won’t get far. You’re going to stay right next to me and not say a word, and if I even think you’re going to run, I will tell every cop there that it was you that killed Roy. Got it?” He pulled my arm a bit more for emphasis until I gave a small whimper and nodded. “Good.”   
As soon as we got out of the woods, he let go of my arm as promised. I gasped in relief and rubbed my now aching shoulder. Glaring at Dean from under my large hood. As he talked to the cops, I was strategically nudged just in front of him, so I had no chance of getting away. I just nodded along with his statements. Not saying a word. When they left, he said, “Are you gonna get in the car on your own, or do I have to make you?” I looked at him, then at the car, and seeing no way out, sighed in defeat and slid into the back seat. “Good.” I heard Dean say as he slid into the passenger side after Sam demanded the driver’s seat.   
When we got to their hotel room, the boys came around to my door before I could open it and gave me looks that said, “get out or I’ll make you get out.” Apparently, I waited a little too long, because Dean sighed and reached into the car, yanking me out, wrenching my arm once again to push me into the hotel room. Tears threatened to squeeze out of the corners of my eyes we entered the room. As soon as the door closed, Dean let go of my arm while Sam asked, “What do we do with her?”  
“Right now,” Dean said, taking out some cuffs that I instinctively backed away from, only to run into Sam, “this,” he grabbed my bad arm and dragged me towards the radiator, locking me to it. “In the morning, we’re gonna find out exactly who she is.”   
As soon as they were both asleep, I got to work. It only took me a few seconds to pick the lock with the hairpin I always kept in my pocket. Right after I was free, I stood up and walked towards the window. It creaked as I opened it, making me wince and pray that it didn’t wake the boys. I climbed up into the frame of the window and was about to jump out when I heard the unmistakable sounds of guns cocking. “And where do you think you’re going?” Dean practically spat as I pivoted in a squat with my hands up. I looked back out the window, then at the boys, and said,   
“Sorry guys. See you around.” Before I let myself fall out of the second story window. It wasn’t the furthest I’d ever fallen, but it still hurt. My knees took most of the abuse, they’d always been pretty crappy. I stood quickly and rolled out my neck, then shook out my arms and legs. I turned and gave the very surprised looking brothers a sarcastic salute, before darting into the safety of darkness. The shadows embraced me like old friends and I let a sort of manic grin spread slowly across my face. I wasn’t sure why I was so happy, but as soon as the adrenaline faded, so did the smile. Replacing it, was the crushing realization of how much harder my job just got.


	2. Success Depends on Who's Telling the Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some failures, and some successes depending on who you're asking

I needed to leave. It’s not like I hadn’t thought of it before. But now, my job was impossible. More than impossible, it was a death wish. One more tiny misstep was gonna get me killed. No, it wasn’t worth it. I needed a break. No, more than that, I needed a life. It was time to let them go.  


I barely made it two months. I’d cut all ties with the boys, ditched my phone, and got a bike. Without having to hide, I could finally do the things I wanted. So instead of a standard sedan, I found a beautiful, almost new, Harley. It was just sitting in some redneck’s junkyard. My best guess was he’d crashed it right after he’d gotten it and never bothered to do repairs. It took a little fixing, but I thought she turned out better than Dean’s Impala. It wasn’t all good for me though, in a bittersweet turn of events, I found out I’d inherited a house. As it happened, the only good foster parents I’d ever had, had just passed. They’d been a wealthy older couple when I’d lived with them. It had been the best year of my life, until colossal misunderstanding had resulted in my relocation. It was a year after that that John found me. What had happened was that the one time I’d genuinely fallen down the stairs, my social worker hadn’t believed me. There hadn’t been any charges or anything, but as a “precaution” I’d gone to one of the worst families I’d ever lived with. After John found me, I sent a letter and set up a post office box, and we’d managed to keep in relative touch. In fact, I was on my way to actually visit when I’d gotten the notice of inheritance. It was a small beach house in Manzanita, Oregon that I’d spent my only real summer at. While it was better than I could have dreamed to live in that house again, I still mourned the loss of the only people who’d ever treated me like a family.  


Of course, those idiots had to ruin it for me. I was finally ready to start looking for my own hunt when I happened to come across a story about a fugitive named Dean Winchester, who’d died in St. Louis. _God damn those idiots!_ Despite my resolve to leave them in the dust, I knew that if Dean was really dead, so was I, and it didn’t matter how well I could hide. So I took out the one thing I had left to keep track of them. Years ago, I had put a small GPS tracker on the bottom of Dean’s car, and the locator was the only thing I’d kept when I left. It showed them heading towards Iowa. I kissed my beautiful, but not entirely inconspicuous, bike goodbye, and cursed those idiots all the way to the Hawkeye State.  


The flight was full of research. I had found the case they (at least I hoped it was still a “they”) were on before I left, and brought what I could find from the town’s history with me. There wasn’t much, but I managed to find an article about some priest who lost it and went on a killing spree, which looked promising.  


My first stop when I arrived that afternoon was the library. I walked in, and immediately, my breath stopped. Sitting in the corner, almost surrounded by boxes, were Sam and Dean Winchester. I could have hugged them in relief. Luckily, I got a hold of myself in time. I ducked behind the closest bookshelf and slowly made my way around so that I was behind them. I pretended to browse the biography section but really strained to hear their conversation. Turns out, they found the same article I did.  


I have to admit, I never saw it coming. I’d waited ten minutes after they left before heading back to my car with the intent to hang around just until this case was done. But in the alley I’d parked in, I felt something was wrong. I was just shrugging it off when a hard blow to the back of my head made the world fade to black. I woke up zip-tied to a chair with two pairs of boots in front of me. My hood was still up and it was covering my face, I couldn’t help but sigh in relief, but unfortunately, it gave me away. “Well, look who’s awake.” I recognized Sam’s voice. I said nothing in reply. Not even moving.  


“Still not feeling talkative are we?” This time it was Dean. I still said nothing. All I heard were a couple of annoyed sighs. I heard them walk away from me and Sam said,  


“Look, we can find out later, but we have to check out that crime scene before the evidence gets cleaned up.”  


“Fine, but what do we do with her?” Dean was annoyed. That was never a good thing.  


“I dunno. We can leave her here, or we put her in the trunk, I guess.” That got my attention. I’d never done well in small spaces. Dean, of course, saw my reaction and walked back over. He bent down to try to look at my face, but I tucked my chin into my chest and did my best to turn away.  
“Someone doesn’t like the sound of that.” He smirked at me and I couldn’t help but reply,  


“Would you?” My voice is raspy and my mouth is dry. He turned back to Sam,  


“Oh, I guess she does speak.” His sarcasm was really starting to get on my nerves, but I let it go. Maybe he was just trying to get a response from me, but next thing I knew, I was tipping backward and the chair was being dragged towards the door. My heart leaped into my throat and my breath hitched slightly as I looked around wildly. It took me a second to find my voice but when I did, it was surprisingly steady,  


“You open that door and I’ll scream as loud as I can. I don’t care how isolated we are, I can guarantee someone’s gonna hear me.” The chair stopped moving and tipped back onto four legs. I couldn’t see them, and their voices weren’t quite loud enough to hear clearly, but I guess I got my point across because Dean said,  


“Fine. It’s not like you’re going anywhere.” He dragged me back to the middle of the room and walked over to one of the beds and started to rummage around in one of the bags. When he turned back around, his smirk was back and he held of a roll of silver duct tape. My legs were already tied to separate chair legs, and I couldn’t move my arms, so it was a little unsettling to see him coming at me with it. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do with it.  


“What are you doing?” I tried to push myself away from him but failed miserably.  


“Calm down,” He wrapped it around my shoulders a few times until I couldn’t move from the back of the chair, then he took a small piece and tried to reach my mouth, but I turned my head into my shoulder. I should have known it wouldn’t work though, all it did was make him use a few of his fingers to force my head back, “Hold still,” He put the tape over my mouth, “Can’t have you making any noise can we?” My reply was drowned by the tape, and that was probably for the best. Just before Dean closed the door, he turned around and winked, “Be good!” then slammed the door behind him. _Asshole_. I waited for the car to start up and drive away before I started wiggling in the ties. After a solid ten minutes of getting absolutely nowhere, I stopped moving and looked around the room. Almost immediately, my eyes fell on Sam’s bag, sitting on the bed. He had to have a knife in there somewhere, didn’t he? Carefully, I used the little wiggle room I had to make the chair jump towards the bed. My hops were small since my legs were separated, but any progress was good progress. When I was about halfway there, I got impatient. I tried to take a bigger hop, but a leg caught on a raised corner of the cheap laminate flooring and I saw the room tip sideways. My head cracked on the floor and the world went black.  
_Blink._ There was something in front of me. _Blink._ It was a bed. _Blink._ I was in a hotel room. _Blink._ Tied to a chair. _Blink._ Why was I laying down? _Blink._ So tired. _Blink._ I shook my head and swallowed the vomit crawling up my throat. I had to get out of here.  


**Evening**  


They didn’t come back until evening. I was still facing away from the door when it opened, but I heard Sam ask, “Seriously?” _Yes seriously! You expected me to just sit here?_ I would have rolled my eyes, but my head hurt too much. The room started spinning again as I was hauled upright. I closed my eyes again and groaned when another wave of nausea hit me. I just wanted to go to sleep. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like that was going to happen. Dean tapped my cheek a few times with an open hand and unceremoniously ripped the duct tape off my mouth.  


“Come on, wake up!” He kept tapping my cheek until I shook my head away and glared at him with heavy eyes. “There she is!” He was laughing at me again. I looked down at my knees, I wasn’t going to put up with his crap. He flipped my hood down, and I winced away from the sudden influx of light.  
“Oh, look at that,” he touched the side of my forehead with his index finger and I couldn’t help but hiss in pain and lean away, “That’s one nasty bruise.” He kept touching it to the point where I finally snapped,  


“Cut it out, jackass!” His eyes widened a little bit and he leaned back at my reaction. He started to reach towards me again, and I swear I would have tried to bite his finger off if Sam hadn’t cut in.  


“Okay, we can pick this up in the morning. Right now, I think we all need some sleep.” I broke the glaring contest Dean and I were having to turn and face him,  


“Couldn’t agree more.” To be honest, sleep was all I wanted at that moment. My head was pounding, and I was getting dizzy again. I knew I had a concussion, but I also didn’t care. I just wanted to sleep.  


“Fine.” Dean didn’t exactly sound happy, but he stepped away from me anyways. 

An hour later, Dean was asleep but Sam was still watching me. At that point, I was too tired to care. My eyes started to drift shut, but before I could drift off, there was that damn tapping on my cheek again. I jerked my head up, ignoring the wave of dizziness,  
“What!? What do you want?”  


“You probably have a concussion, so you can’t sleep.” He was surprisingly quiet until I remembered that Dean was asleep nearby.  


“No shit, Sherlock.” They were the ones that hit me over the head in the first place, “Thanks for that one, by the way.” He looked a little sheepish when I mentioned it.  


“Sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down, “I wouldn’t be that worried about it, but then you hit it again, and you were having trouble staying awake earlier.”  


“Maybe I’m just tired. Ever think of that?” He actually chuckled at me.  


“So who are you anyway? Cause you’ve been following us for a while.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I told the truth,  


“Me? I’m nobody. Just a girl who was in the very wrong place at the very wrong time.” He looked at the ground, smiled, and glanced back up using his puppy dog eyes.  


“See, why don’t I believe you?” I shrugged.  


“Not my problem.” He ran a hand through his hair and tried again.  


“Okay, how about we start with why you disappeared.” I squinted at him,  


“What do you mean?”  


“You know exactly what I mean. After we caught you in Colorado, you vanished. Poof. Gone. No trace. Pretty impressive actually. But my question is why? I mean, you risked your life to follow us into a wendigo lair, but then you just ran away.” I nodded slowly at him, narrowing my eyes tiredly,  


“You don’t care why I left, you want to know why I was there in the first place, and you’re hoping I’ll let something slip if you ask me a less direct question.” He smiled at the ground again.  


“Yeah, you got me. Well, how bout you just tell me your name?” I pretended to mull over the idea.  


“If I do, can I go to sleep?”  


“No,” He pointed to my head, “ four-hour window.” I groaned and let my head fall back.  


“Guess you’ll never know then.” He paused.  


“Okay, maybe you can just explain one thing to me: that case in Colorado, you made it all the way through the woods and into that mine without anyone seeing you. You went out of your way to make sure no one knew you were there. I mean, it was pretty clear you didn’t want to be found, but you barely fought back when Dean grabbed you.” I brought my head back to straight and waited for the walls to stop spinning before shrugging and saying,  


“Bad shoulder.”  


“What happened?” He was pushing it.  


“Dislocated.” He winced in what was probably sympathy. I glanced at the clock and saw it read 11:30. I looked back over at Sam, “Can I go to sleep now?” He looked over at the clock, and back over on me,  


“When did you fall?”  


“I don’t know, but it was longer than four hours ago.”  


“What do you mean you don’t know?”  


“I mean I don’t know!” He jumped up from his seat on the floor and grabbed his duffel bag. There was a rustling noise and he came back with a small flashlight and went to shine it in my eyes. I screwed them shut and turned away.  


“Cut it out!” He used his fingers to pry my left eye open and waved the light over it a couple of times. Satisfied, he repeated the process with my right eye when I refused to open it either. When he was kneeling in front of me, he asked “Are you having any other memory loss? Did you pass out?”  


“What? I don’t know! I mean I blacked out for a second but it’s fine.” He looked at me skeptically.  


“Well you’re definitely sensitive to light, and I’d say you’re probably dizzy or nauseous too.” I didn’t answer him right away, and that seemed to be enough to convince him. “You can either give me an estimate or neither of us are getting any sleep tonight.” I tried to think back, two hours at the library, maybe around an hour before they left me in the room?  


“Probably between five and six. Happy?” He nodded.  


“Give it till twelve, then you can sleep.” He got up and walked over to his bed. I finally let my head fall forwards and my eyes close. I didn’t care what he said, I was sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some good reactions, so here's chapter 2. Let me know if you want another one (validate me!)
> 
> Peace, love, and all that other stuff.

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm just kind of testing the waters with this. Feel free to leave comments (love it? hate it? Let me know!). For now, this is just a test run, but if people like it, then I might try to keep the story going. 
> 
> Peace, love, and all that other stuff.


End file.
